Mission Impossible
by Smoke and Lavender
Summary: When Morgan, a high class girl, gets her life turned upside down by Mr. Pulitzer, things get tough and dirty when she realizes she's going to Brooklyn. Spot Conlon's territory. She takes part of dirty secrets, dangerous alliances, and forbidden relationships. Will this be a mission Possible or a mission Impossible?


Spot looked at his crowd of anxious Newsies. He was supposed to choose a second in command since his best friend and former second in command Cliff died. It was a mysterious death, one that he couldn't understand. Sadly. He loved him like a brother, and at his late funeral even cried, which was rare for the Mighty King Of Brooklyn to ever do so. But yet he cared. He knew that in the other bourroughs he was thought of a mean heartless person that was cold, most of the time indifferent, and hostile. And to top it off he was dangerous. And power hungry. It made sense, because on the outside he was just that. But he had feelings. But that Spot was never showed to anyone. Except for the select few that he trusted. That was okay, only because he never really cared. In fact, he was fine with his reputation. What what wrong with being called the King Of Brooklyn? Nothing. He was standing on the top of his world. New York City. And he loved that more than anything.

_**Meanwhile...**_

Morgan McGovern walked in confident as Mr. Pulitzer regarded her with a curt nod. He firmly shook and hand and offered her a seat.

"Hello Morgan," Mr. Pulitzer said eyeing her. Morgan calmly smiled and said back, "Nice to meet you Mr. Pulitzer."

Morgan eyed the huge penthouse office. She looked up at he copper chandelier and sighed inwardly. It was all the same to her. She had come from a rich high class family. She was very proud of her father.

"So, Morgan, I hear your father is the founder of _The Sun,_" he said casually leaning back in his chair. I smirked and smiled with a dose of fake kindness.

"Yeah, you're right," I said with approval. _The World_ and _The Sun_ have a secret alliance with each other and we both value it deeply. It's like mittins and hands, you can't have one without the other. Obviously. I really like being from a rich family. It has it's positives. But then again it has it's negatives. Like meeting with this poor excuse of a guy Mr. Pulitzer.

As in, I really hate doing stuff like this. Nevertheless, I have to do these things. It comes with the job and the money.

"So, you must be wondering why I have brought you here today," Mr. Pulitzer said confident. I nodded by head politely.

"Well, I have to decided to take on the Newsies once more." he stated. I interrupted. I could tell this was going to be bad. "But, Mr. Pulitzer, I can respectfully say a lot of your senior people left you. The new senior people are not very familiar with the protest. Only people who live in the city know. Also, this could be bad if whatever plan you're thinking of crashes and the government or the other newspapers find out. This could be the end of your newspaper for good." I pointed out. I knew that whatever he was thinking I would have to be in it.

"Yes, but however, if this so-called plan does work, we could have a very big shoot in stock and profit. Here, just listen to me," he said calmly. I thought, _Doesn't he know all the risks that could possibly happen because of what he's going to do?_ In response I just slightly smiled and nodded stiffly.

"Listen, Morgan, I have a wonderful plan that can't go wrong. I only need one person, so it would be hard to get in jail because of witnesses because the only one would be practically you and the Newsies. And the judges don't really believe the Newsies. I've decided that if I can't take over Manhattan maybe I can take over Brooklyn. And I most likely can. Hopefully. With the help of you," he said in a hushed voice. He looked at me blinking. I groaned inwardly. Great. Another thing I have to deal with. Add whatever plan this is to my list of cons of being in a high rich society. I smoothed my skirt with my hands, "Okay, go on please."

"So, basically, I would like you to be my little bird if you will. For Brooklyn. For the so called Spot whatever his last name is," he said. He waved his hand dismissively. I looked at the ground and rolled my eyes. He really thought this would fly. I highly doubt it my friend.

"It's Spot Conlon Mr. Pulitzer. And by the way, I'll but this as nicely as I can," I said innocently, "You're a total idiot for thinking this plan up. It is _really _stupid Pulitzer," putting on my best "Tough Newsie" voice. But then again, it was true about what I said. I meant it. Why in the world would I seriously want to spy on the power craving Spot Conlon? The King Of Brooklyn. The one that can destroy me. With one wave of his powerful arm. I could be dead. And my reputation of being the good girl, all that, ruined. For good. What if my high class friends knew? Or my dad? I would be dead. That's what. But if I don't well, I could obviously loose the alliance. And that meant so much to my father. This would be a fail fail situation. Just what I wanted. I was trapped.

"Well, Morgan, I've already spoken to you Father and he has approved, so we should get you to the local thrift shop," Mr. Pulitzer said lightly shrugging. He open the door and pushed me out without further delay.

Once I got out I could only gasp with pure shock. How could he, my beloved Father, leave me to do something like this, and actually approve? _Crap. _I walked out of his office and printing press scowling.


End file.
